Like a Ship on the Ocean
by IrisCarlyle
Summary: AU. There was a glitch in the Magical Wardrobe which sends Emma to a different part of the magical Kingdom. She is 25 and has been slaved to the ruthless Captain Killian for over half her life. But then she meets a witch named Astrid, who can cure her deformities. Will she ever become more to the heartless Captain or will she always just be a slave?
1. Chapter 1

**A / N **Okay so this is very loosely based around the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Not the setting or anything but Emma and the Hunchback have some very similar qualities I accidentally incorporated in. The title comes from the song 'Cary on my Wayward Son' which I'd like to believe kind of describes this fic. Hope you enjoy it, and I really hope I did the characterization right! :) Oh, and also, in this story Captain Hook never lost his hand. He never went to Neverland either.

Emma Swan sighed and whipped the sweat off of her brow with the back of her hand. Her once luscious golden hair had turned brown and sticky and her eyes held a weight that any one under the age of fifty should never have.

There was a sway as the boat turned and for a moment she had hopped they were nearing a port. She could do with a bath, this grime did not suit her and her clothes were old and faded. For several sharp moments she resented how fifteen years ago Captain Jack had found her half starved and wandering barefoot on a port. The pirate had picked her up and taken her in. And from then onwards she worked on the ship.

She was never promoted and only saw the rifts of sunlight when they had neared a port and she was free to bathe and wander. Her once precious hands had long since become blistered and broken from constantly scrubbing the floors or something else just as harsh. Her hair had faded from the lack of sunlight and her skin became pale and porous.

With time Captain Jack died in a brawl and his son had stepped up as the Captain. Hook, as Emma called him, was just as cruel as his father but with double the taste of woman. Jack at least had tried to keep as celibate as possible for his wife back on the mainland.

Captain Hook did not have a hook. Actually, both his hands were intact right where they should be. But the way he could use a sword like it was a part of him was almost terrifying, and so Emma had begun to call him that.

"Oie, lady." One of the shipmates came down to the lower deck and peered at Emma. Like a shy, exclusive animal she raised her head. There were scars along her face from whips that had left permanent damage. The sight of her almost made the shipmate – Emma called him Todd – flinch but he resumed his talking. "We have made port, gather your bearings. We leave in five." And he snappishly made his way up the ladder onto deck.

Emma smiled and set down her mop. Quickly she vanished into her room (It was actually a cupboard) and gathered a long black cape and a bar of soap, along with this magical potion meant for hair, and quickly made her way to the deck.

Today was a sunny day but no to warm. She could see faint white clouds in the distance and palm trees lined the port. There were merchants and children laughing and dolphins played out on the surf. Quickly she covered herself with the cape to hide her deformities and rushed over to Hook.

"Oie, Lady." He said as she approached. There was distain in his voice as he saw her hideous outline of a face. On both sides of him were two whores who had stayed the entire trip and they didn't notice the boredom when he looked at them. They usually stayed in port for three days and so Emma was in charge of cleaning her master's quarters while he 'played around,' the thought made her shiver. "The bath house I assume?" His brow was raised and she nodded eagerly.

So he handed her three gold pieces and two silvers. She nodded her thanks, she hardly ever talked anymore. "Be back my nightfall, or the consequences will be great." This is the reason she had never attempted to flee, this threat that had followed her for fifteen years. She knew he had held magic, and Emma dared never to test the lengths that he held this power.

So she scampered off, the eternal limp from the time when she was thirteen and she had been a target of the shipmates to practice their swords. She was lashed in the calf that tore out some of her nerves. She is twenty-five now and the leg still didn't work as well as it should. But alas, she sufficed.

Making her way downtown she observed the people. Her fingers grasped hungrily towards the candy and the sweet shops but she didn't dare spend her bathing money. Hook only ever gave her enough money so she could get clean. Emma had grown up on dried fish and rice, the same thing everyday. Candy had never tasted her tongue.

Finally, after a thirty-minute trek – which would take a healthy person all but of ten minutes – she reached the bathing house. It was situated near the hills where a warm spring flowed and had been separated into different pools. There were the public ones, which went for much cheaper, and the private ones that cost a little more. Emma refused to bathe in the public ones due to the abundance of sex-driven men and she didn't want people to see her scars and deformities.

"Which one?" Sighed the old man that sat at the booth with boredom and anger.

"Private one, please." She said and her voice came out hoarse and cracked.

The man, curious to the lady with the hoarse voice, looked up at her. There was a sigh as he noticed the obvious slave. "Do you have money?" He asked, voice a little kinder.

She nodded, Emma was taught never to lie.

"Well that'll be two gold's and one silver ma'am." He extended his arm to take the money.

Emma looked back, shocked. The prices had gone down. With shaking fingers she pulled away the bath money and handed it to the man, and then looked back within her purse at what money had remained.

He then opened a door, which led down a narrow cavern, and Emma gave a brisk nod before dispatching downwards and into the darkness. What would she buy with this money! Oh, what a day she was having!

Emma dipped her naked body into the warm pool and sighed contently. There was something about the spa-fish that had greeted her, biting off her dead skin that made her feel clean. Slowly she dunked her entire body in, followed by head and finally greasy hair.

The fish had greeted her soothingly and she held her breath as long as she could as the fish bit away at her grime. Why did she have to serve pirates? Why couldn't she just float away on a bed of fish and wait in port for the pirates to bring back their riches, sell and trade along with them but stuck on _land. _Why did she have to be owned by stupid Hook who gave her the scars and her limp?

She sighed contently, drawing her face back up and blinking away the water droplets. The pool is only five-feet in diameter and at its deepest point its 6ft but to Emma, it just feels like heaven. So she grabbed her sponge and soap and let the cleansing begin. Even with the scars covering her body she felt like her life was beginning again. And for once, Emma Swan didn't care about her deformities or how much a ruthless bastard her master was. For once, she paid sole attention to herself and she liked it.

The bath had consumed two hours of her time and when she got out she knew she only had another two hours to get back to the ship. But still, she wanted to spend some of her time looking around Port, seeing that he'd only let her out one of the three days.

So she limped down the hill and neared the City. Emma didn't even know the name of this place but she liked the feel. It smelled of roasting pine nuts and candy in the works, there was the sniff of wood being shaven and the metalwork's. A small band of bass and fiddle played _Lady My Finest _and the music seemed to drift everywhere. There were dancing gypsies trying to make money and children who gaped wide-mouthed at a toyshop.

But the thing that had interested her the most was a small dark shop. It seemed to silhouette the town as a backdrop. There was a small little stool where an old, mysterious woman sat near the door. Her skin was tan and hair black and she must've been beautiful in her young age. She had silver nails and creased lips. But the most interesting part of her was her eyes, which were dark green and seemed to watch everything at once. She was watching Emma right now, who stood all but ten feet away.

"You look lost," she croaked with her head tilted. Emma shook her head kindly in response but the woman continued on. "I mean you look _mentally _lost. You've been hurt."

Emma shook her head kindly again but this time she spoke. "No, I'm fine." Her words came out shattered and broken and Emma was sure the woman could see within her lie.

Instead the woman handed her a small glass of a clear liquid. "Here, drink this. Your voice needs to be proper before we speak."

Emma eyed the liquid with caution. Captain Jack and Hook always warned her not to take things from strangers and so, to kindly refuse she replied, "I haven't any money to pay for it." She said and she found herself drawn closer to the woman on the stool that eyed her.

She shook her head and made a _tisk-tisk _sound with her tongue. "I do not charge those that need me the most. It is fear, so please drink it."

Emma sighed, heck, if she was to die then she'd great death with open arms. What could be worse then be a slave to a pirate? So she grabbed with glass with shaky fingers, sent a glance to the heavens and gulped it down.

It tasted like peppermint, or whatever peppermint was supposed to taste like, and held a hint of the salty ocean. It warmed Emma's vocals to a height that they'd never been before and she smiled as she could feel the old crook of her voice come back in golden quantities.

The woman smiled warmly at her, "better?" She nodded and almost chuckled, but her body was still bruised and broken so her joy was short lived. But the woman continued. "You talk whenever you can, this potion will ease your vocals but you still need to practice them."

"Yes, I will." Her voice was restored to something it had never been. It no longer sounded like an old woman but the young maiden that she was.

"Please come in," said the witch as she motioned to door.

Emma checked the sky to test her time, "yes Ma'am. But I'm limited on time… and like I've said, I have no money to pay you."

The woman eyed her with mischief, "we both know that is not true. But alas, for our first visit I will not ask for money. If you'd like to buy what I will offer, that is your decision."

And so the two women made their way into the dark-lightened room. The first thing Emma noticed was the bottles. There were hundreds upon hundreds of bottles, holding whatever Emma did not know. In the center was a small black table with two chairs and if it wasn't for the glowing crystal ball the room would be pitched into complete darkness. There was the scent of incense everywhere, which made Emma light headed. The lady motioned for Emma to sit down, so she did.

"Now, what is your name Maiden?" Asked the woman, her eyes half closed as her hands barely touched the crystal ball. The smoke inside was blue and looked like the stars as they sparkled in and out of reach.

"Emma… Emma Swan." Truth was, the name was invented. She was orphaned as a baby with only a blanket with the name of Emma on it. When she was seven she lived by a pond full of swans and decided to incorporate that into her name. Her love for swans never faded, even though she hasn't seen one since.

The woman nodded, "you can very well call me Astrid, now… you are slaved to a man. Not just any man, a king of the seas. Oh but this goes beyond him doesn't it? You knew your master when he was but a boy, you've grown up with him. But he is just as cruel as your former master. These two men have been cruel to you and haven't let you shine have they? No, you were destined for greater but you've cast out to a different platform."

Emma shivered at the witch's words and how true they had become. She hadn't told her anything of her life and yet she had grasped it perfectly. But the witch wasn't done. Now her eyes were open and peering at her with interest. "You know don't you? That this can all be reversed. You have been strong enough for these past fifteen years."

She watched her with hopeful eyes. Some part of Emma still believed in dreams like a little girl. In some way she had never matured beyond that day when Captain Jack took her away on his boat. She was shrunken and shoved away and never believed that she could ever be more then that little girl. But now, she was being given hope. And oh how new that was for her.

Just at that moment she looked out of the crack of where the door was and she noticed the daylight fading. She gasped and shrunk away, "I have to… my master… Hook…" the words were mumbled as she pushed her away out the door and she ran as fast as her dead-leg could take her. "I'll be back tomorrow!" She shouted before disappearing into the din of the city.


	2. Chapter 2

**A / N **Thanks for the reviews and followings for Chapter One Guys! :) Hope you enjoy this chapter just as much.

Emma had arrived only moments before the final rays of sunlight milked their way over the purple, sunset sea. Hook was taking inventory near the bow and raised a questioning eyebrow at her that veered right by annoyance and scolding. That eye had always pressed her. The eye that told her anything she'd ever do would never suffice and there was always something she did wrong. "You're late." The words were just like the eye, sigh pressed closely behind it. "It never takes you this long to get back."

Emma gasped for air, the run had been brutal and her leg bothered her more then ever. "There was a line, I could barely get back in time… I'm sorry master…" God, the lies she was throwing around today.

Hook didn't seem to notice the freshness of her voice; he never noticed anything involving her. Instead he pursed his eyes together to observe her, to attempt to strip her of her lies. But finally he nodded, "very well. Now, go to your quarters, there is cleaning to be done on the third wing. And later in my bedroom."

But she stood there firm, hunched but firm, and she spoke even though her dismissal. "Master… May I please go back out tomorrow?"

Hook drew in a sharp laugh and threw his head up in howling but his eyes did not leave hers. "Why! You could get killed, or worse, stolen. And you haven't any money you slave-lady."

She hung her head, but his questions demanded answers, so in a very small voice she replied. "I've been to this port all my life, yet I've never really seen it. Please master, I'll clean till dawn and I'll only be out till noon. I'll also half my rations for a week." The length she was going was almost outrageous. Emma had been used to no sleep, but 24 hours worth was never pulled before. And her rations were small, half of that of the skinniest shipmate. Her ribs poked through her skin and her face was hollow and gaunt.

He looked her over for a moment then waved his hand, "very well," he snapped. "Now get out of my sight, there will be a Captain coming soon from the Eastern Isles and I don't want him to know of the low-life filth I have on my ship. Be it on my father's warm heart not to kill you on the spot. He had to bring you in…" The rest was muttering swear words.

Emma drifted off and refused to let the words hurt her. Hook was cruel and had the heart of a demon. She sighed, taking one final look at the port before she grabbed a bucket and a mop and disappeared below deck.

Emma's portions were never that great. She was given a hand-full of rice. The rice she got depended on the mood of the cook. It was either the top rim of which that was hard and couldn't absorb water or the very bottom, which was burnt and black. In the means of fish it was always the smallest fish that had the least amount of meat on the bones. The fish was basically a burnt body of skin.

Though tonight, she got scarcely that. When she said she'd half her rations Hook seemed to take that a step forward. The rice amount was about two thumbs worth and the fish was only the one side. She gobbled it up with hunger, but she knew it couldn't even begin to fill the emptiness inside her stomach.

Just as she had finished there was whistling from nearby and someone poked their head in her quarter. "Captain's quarters, you filth."

Emma flinched but slowly got up, fighting the light-headedness that consumed her ever so often these days. She assumed she had a month left to live before she starved and was replaced. The idea frightened her, not that she would die but that someone else would own this hell that had become her life.

With another sigh she waited by the oak doors, mop in hand. She heard the moans and screams from within as he finished his business with the whore. She heard, all to vividly, the whispers of longing he sent at the woman. She heard them both groan and the kisses he placed on her and the chuckles she used to reply. Finally, after what seemed like minutes, she heard the sound of coins enter her hands and then the door opened. She didn't even notice the woman huddling in the corner as she made her way back to port.

Hook sent one final look of admiration at her backside before frowning down at Emma. She shivered and recoiled back against the wall as she saw his naked body. But he quickly grabbed a blanket and threw it over himself. She sighed, _not tonight. _ She looked at him to long and so he barked, "well hurry up, I've got two more coming you filth."

And she quickly scampered into his room.

His quarters were gigantic, lapis lazuli, steel and oak polishing. There was a gigantic circular bed near the east wall and furnishings to suit a king. There are rows and rows of chests that hold nothing but treasure. So she mops up his messes and fixes his sheets. And this is the sight that owns her all night, but not once does he touch her. And she is happy for it.

"You be back by noon, or your death will be painful and lengthy," said Hook as dawn came. She could hear the happiness in his voice, obvious from the night before. But his threat was still bitter and true, so she shivered.

"Y-yes… Master." She said before limping off the boat. Her eyes were heavy with the lack of sleep and her body screamed for food. But she trekked onwards towards the place where Astrid lived. Her fingers clutched protectively around the coins within her purse.

It took her longer this time, the hunger and pain was making her kneel in pain every so meter. But she had to get to Astrid, if she died there then that was her, but she had to make it. Within thirty minutes she made it, gasping at the floor.

Astrid was of course waiting and watched her, "your master is not kind." Was the only thing she said as she helped her up. Emma smiled at her, reassuring her that she was fine but again she saw through her lie. "Come on, let me guide you, I still have some pork left from last night, maybe that'll ease your stomach."

Emma's eyes brightened in response and soon she was seated back in that dark room with a platter of salted pork in front of her. Astrid nodded at her to eat it and the first two she gobbled up quickly, the third was nibbled. Never before in her life had she been more full. "Let me live with you, let me escape him." She blurted out through the meat.

But Astrid shook her head and sighed, "No Emma. It is not your fate to grow up with a witch. You must be strong, it won't always be this hard."

She frowned, and looked at the crystal ball. "What makes you say this?"

Astrid's hands were once again on the ball but a small smile formed on her lips, "It will be hard, I must admit, but I can give you something to ease this pain, to make you strong."

Emma's eyes bulged in wonder and quickly Astrid got off of her chair and made her way to the many bottles that surrounded the room. She watched her finger blue bottles that sparkled, and black bottles that looked demonic. Finally she grabbed a boring, clear bottle and pulled it towards her before sitting down. "This," she said, "is a strength and building potion. It will substitute your obvious hunger, repair your deformities and build up muscle. It'll also restore your emotional state to match that of a normal twenty-five-year-old. One can practically live off of this stuff, and it is extremely hard to make." The witch eyed the bottle with glee and respect, though she reluctantly placed it on the table.

Emma eyed it just the way she did, but she saw hope were Astrid saw respect. The witch didn't stop there, "this bottle can last a man half his life, but he won't even need it because it'll fix him within a month." Her words were whispered and sighed, deep appreciation laced throughout her mouth.

"How much is it?" Emma's fingers were basically itching at the bottle, but Astrid pulled the bottle away before she could grab it.

"Ten gold pieces…" there was a look of sadness in Emma's eyes and for a moment Astrid saw her own 13 year old before she disappeared and was assumed dead. And she couldn't help but flinch. This woman, however old she was, reminded her of Emily. There was hope in her eyes that wouldn't die and an innocence that shouldn't be there. For a fleeting moment she didn't want to give it to her, to keep that innocence. But then she remembered that she needed to keep this woman alive, so she could be her Emily… even though she was gone. So with a curse and a mutter she replied, "but for you, I'll cheapen it. You give me all the money you have left and this potion will be yours."

Emma's eyes brightened again as she quickly spilled over her money. "Now, young lady, you put a drop of this in your cleaning and it'll work its magic on you, hands up." She nodded and quickly grabbed the potion, tucking it away within her robes and making sure nothing would happen to it. She never considered that this witch wasn't trustworthy. For once someone had proved their trust to Emma, even though it was small she had to.

"Thank you Astrid, I'll see you around." But the old witch shook her head and Emma never understood why. Quickly she scampered off to the ship, a smile on her face. And she never saw the witch again in her life.


	3. Chapter 3

**A / N **Alright, so I had to add some thanksgiving because, well, its tomorrow! I'm sorry for you non-Americans, I had to. Tradition. Anyway, I love to keep this Fic rated T so I tried to dampen down the beginning content for reasons. I also put in some Captain Swan ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter. Ooh! Also, with the reviews I've heard a lot of 'what an interesting AU' or things of the liking. Well, the idea came to me late one night after my cat woke me up. So trying to get back to sleep I had this idea of Emma working on Hook's ship. And every night she'd clean in front of his quarters while he had his way with the prostitutes. And one day he realized how much he loved Emma and they drifted into the sunset. This is evolved from that. :) So, happy thanksgiving guys.

The men had been the worst. They had _had _her in any possible way that they get their hands on her. Captain Jack had never touched her but he didn't answer to her cries of pleading when his men had. She had been Killian's first victim when he was just 13 and she was 10. Emma hadn't been here long without the attention of what she was getting to the men, and oh how they basked in her pain.

It still happened 15 years later, but not to the extent. They had lost interest in the starved, misshaped girl. It only happened now when one of them was severely drunk and out of his senses.

Now, was one of those times.

The pain, which had long since become numb with age, was now blocked by his forcefulness as he held her down. Her strength was to weak to hold him away and so she lay on the rough ground thinking about her breathing and hoping, ever so dearly, that it would stop soon. The pirate however had other plans and returned to her periodically through the night.

Once she felt the eyes of Killian's on her own and looks towards the doorway, her head rolled and almost drunken. But she could not miss the look on his face, however bad she was. It was the look of a monster's raging glee at was happening to her, the look of power and hate. And then she drifted into an uneasy sleep that she could never remember.

When she awoke she was naked and alone, and the sun drifted through the cracks in the wall. There were heavy feet above her as the men readied the boat to leave port. So quickly she grabbed her bearings – and clothes – and scrawled over towards the corner of her 'room' where there was a loose floorboard. Quickly, as if the memory of last night had left her, she carried on with her life and pulled out what belongings she had stuffed in there.

Her baby blanket, her hair cleaning supplies and the potion from Astrid. Quickly, as if in one swift motion, she grabbed her bucket of water and soap and put a drop of the boring-looking potion within it. Nothing happened at all, no smell or reaction that gave sign that it was working. For several fleeting moments she thought that she had been scammed before dipping her hands within in it and pulled out the sponge, never less she still had to clean.

So making her way past the patch-worked under parts of the ship she looked for places where dust had begun to lurk. The ship was rather large with no form of navigation. It was more like a labyrinth then a ship and there were rooms long since forgotten about. So that was the one upside to her job, being able to live within the tunnels that only her and Killian knew how to navigate.

Emma didn't notice that from just touching the water, her blisters were beginning to peel away like magic.

So she set off to clean the banisters and attempted to rid this ship of its cockroach and mouse problem. And soon even her bruises from last night began to fade away, along with her gnawing hunger. She was to focused on her work to notice. Cleaning had become her life and she had praised it, even though she dined for something far more excellent.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Said a voice from nearby, making her fall down sharply in shock. For a moment she thought it was one of the shipmates trying to scare her but the voice was to young.

There was a young boy, hanging from one of the banisters nearby. He held a toothy grin and reminded Emma of a monkey, even though she had never seen one. She snorted at him and was taken aback by her nature for a second, she never got annoyed with anyone. Everyone got annoyed with her. She was still oblivious to how well the potion was working.

"Cleaning," she said with that shyness of a hurt animal. Her eyes moved back and forth across the floor and the deep notch the sponge had fallen into. With a snort and a glare she began to reach her arm to grab it. But the boy intervened.

"Hey! I got it!" And he jumped from his banister and reached his hand into the crack. Again, she was thrown back in annoyance.

"Who are you anyway?" She asked, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

"Anister," said the boy as he struggled to grab it.

"Well Anister, what are you doing on this ship?" Her words were less tense but still stern, like a mother approaching a no-good child that has fallen into muck.

"I've always wanted to be a pirate," he approached.

Her heart, which had been sunken, had fallen even deeper. No, this was not the slave to replace her it was a boy who had a dream, a dream Killian would soon as well kill. "Did the Captain – I mean Master – did he pick you up?"  
Anister shook his head, finally giving up. But his head was cocked as she said master, though he didn't question her on it. "I ran away from home and joined this ship!"

Her heart was in her stomach now, pity for the boy's fate. He was all of nine with stringy brown hair and baby blue eyes.

With ease she reached into the crack and pulled out the dirty sponge, soaking it in water before she resumed cleaning. "You should go," she whispered.

Anister defiantly shook her head. She wasn't looking at him anymore as she cleaned and scrubbed.

"Why would I-" he stopped right there. There was the feel of blood splattering Emma along her jaw line and the sound of something heavy falling on the floor and rolling. Another slump, but this was heavier and didn't roll.

Cautiously she looked, even though she knew what had happened. And there was a triumphant Hook, sword in hand. The tip pointed towards the boy's sternum but the head had rolled over to a corner, the expression fearful.

"Master…" she began, her tone small as she looked away. Once, when she was nineteen she had come across another child's broken body from Hook. He seemed to like decapitation.

He looked at her, glaring. "Filth," he sneered. "Why were you speaking to this filth of a boy? He deserved not to be what he desired." Hook's eyes never left hers, that familiar smirk on his face.

She furrowed her brow, "he came to me Master." For the first time in her life she focused on the color, and the shape of his face, which tried to hold cruelty that it was not meant to hold. For a fleeting moment she thought that if he wasn't raised a pirate, he'd never be the cruel bastard he is today.

So Hook snorted, pulling his sword back into his belt before turning on swift heels. Emma was unable to detect the light blush on his face. "Follow me filth, you have cleaning to do in places you are needed."

And so she followed him, her hunger all but gone and her limp slightly better. For once she could almost keep up with him.

"Here." He said, motioning to the dining hall.

It took Emma a few moments to understand how long she had been cleaning before the boy had come. Roughly, half the day. Her eyes brightened at the sight of scraps of uneaten turkey, stuffing, and 'boats' of gravy.

His eyes, which looked so hard and unforgiving, passed over hers with a flash of kindness. There was a twitch at the corner of his lips then the moment had passed and he sighed, "you may eat a little but don't indulge."

She was stunned; he had never offered her to get the scraps of the meal before. Emma had no idea how to thank her master for this privilege so instead she said, "a-and the boy?"

But his eyes had gone cold again as he sneered, "Oh filth, a shipmate will take care of it. Only they can get on the deck and dump that filth."

She nodded quickly, watching him go, turning up his black coat in defiance. With a sigh she reached towards the turkey and dreaded the day when he would officially snap and end her. She still didn't pay attention to her dulled hunger.


	4. Chapter 4

Bad news guys...

I really hate to bring this onto you guys but I am putting this fic on hiatus. It won't be to long of a hiatus, just so I can fully plan everything. I've gotten a lot of reviews lately stating that the character of Hook is to, unlikeable and evil. (Yes I do read the reviews and I've been meaning to contact you all, I just haven't had the time) And it has been brought to my attention that I cannot fix him. So I will be taking this hiatus to fully work on the story and strengthen it. Don't worry, it'll be back, just in time. Sorry guys.


	5. Chapter 5

**A / N **Sorry its been so long, but its here right? I hope this explains why Hook is Hook now :) Hope you guys enjoyed, again I'm sorry.

"Son, come on." His words were harsh as he made he way onto land.

Killian made way to protest but nodded, his hands falling in place behind his back. "Can Emma come with us?" He asked, blinking with a blank face.

"Who?" The man snorted then looked back at his son. The slave girl stood near the bow, a hopeful look in her eye. "Oh, _her._"

"Father she needs to bathe." Killian protested, brow furrowed and eyes insisting.

The Captain sighed then waved a hand, "oh very well." But he did not wait for her as he made through port swiftly.

Killian fell back next to Emma, smiling at her. "How are you?" He asked, resting a hand on her shoulders.

She returned the smile, fiddling with the seams of her dress. "I am well. As well as I can be." Her eyes focused on a scar along her shoulder as she bit her lip. Though this only held for several moments before her eyes met Killian's again.

He sighed, "He still…"

Emma grasped his shoulder, making him stop and look straight at her. "Killian. You show me kindness. That's enough to make me alright."

"When he dies I'll get this boat, this crew. And you'll be my first mate." He smiled then, eyes bright.

She blushed slightly, taking her eyes away from him. "But Killian, I am a lady."

"And the bravest one I know." He was just about to pull her in for an embrace when his father's cold words spoke.

"This is where we stop. Give the slave girl her money for the bath. And don't think of running off." His sneer was harsh, yellow teeth fitted with the smell of a rotten fish carcass.

Killian looked at the ground, handing her the money. "I'll see you tonight," he breathed. "You know where."

She gave a curt nod to him and a bow to the Captain before scampering off.

He sighed, watching her go. His father did not wait for him as he made his way up the green hill and towards the house. This house wasn't like the nobles house, maybe half the size and fitted only with copper linings. But it was obvious these people were wealthy. One guard stood near the door and nodded at the Captain and his son.

Killian eyed him wearily, and the guard eyed him the same. He never trusted the men his father hired. But he made his way through the door without the man approaching him. A good day in the eyes of Killian Jones.

Not a moment before he entered the door did he hear the cry. It was warm and welcoming, followed by a strong hug. He laughed a little bit, "mother."

"Son." Her eyes were watering as she stroked a hand along his cheek. "You've grown."

"And you've never looked so dapper." Their hands grasped and for once he didn't feel the weight of his father pressing on him.

"How old are you now?" There was a lost look in her eyes, the pain of only seeing her son once every few years.

"17. Father says I'll man the boat soon. I can finally take the men out to hunt the whales without his eye on me."

"Good good!" And Mae looked around for his father. The Captain however was in the kitchen, eating at the meal she had prepared. "And the lady?" Her words were whispered, this was the one topic Jack was not aloud to know about.

"Aye." His smile grew wider. "She is well. I wish you could meet her."

"Well you speak so fondly of her…" Mae laughed a little before pulling him in for another bone-breaking hug.

"I shouldn't have brought you Killian. If you were going to act like this." His father's words were just as cold as his presence. The boy and his mother pulled away, watching him. "We came here for matters Mae. I entrust you got my letter?"

She nodded, stepping forward.

"Well come along, into the room. And no Killian, you are not invited." His father then walked swiftly into the hall.

His mother stalled for a moment, and then in a final act of defiance pulled away her necklace.

"Mother…" Killian was confused. But he took it, frowning in curiosity.

"Give it to your girl." It was a large pearl, maybe the size of Killian's thumb. Carved into the opaque white was a golden swan. Two droplets of sapphire crowned it. "It's a dowry."

"Woman!" Called his father angrily.

Finally she grasped his hands in hers, "Good bye son." And she sped off. Killian didn't have a good feeling. She seemed sudden… and that good bye sounded more deep-rooted then for just a few minutes. So he sat down on the furniture, examining the necklace.

Several minutes passed before he heard the scream. It was clearly from his mother, making him jump up, dropping the necklace in the crook of the couch. He didn't care though as he rushed to her aid.

What he saw nearly made him throw up. There was his mother, lying on the floor, and she wasn't moving. His father stood above her, frowning. In his hand was a red pulsing thing.

"Your mother's heart." His father answered. "Approach boy."

Killian did as he was told, coming mere feet from his father. "What have you done...?" he whispered, never taking his eye off his Mae.

"Righting a wrong." The Captain snarled, cutting Killian's finger so a steady trail of blood flowed from his finger. He pulled back, betrayal on his face. But his father was quicker and some of the blood got on the heart.

"What do you mean, 'righting a wrong?'" Killian asked through clenched teeth.

There was cold laughter, "you were always just like your mother. Weak. I am making you my son."

The cold truth filled Killian to the brim but he shook his head, "but why… now?"

"I am in poor health. I need a henchman for my quest. It is a pity I will be unable to finish it in this body."

Killian took several steps back, shaking his head. "You can't change me."

"Ah," the Captain grinned. "But you see, I already have." And like quicksilver the Captain cut his own hand open, the heart being overwhelmed by the blood. There was the sound of air being let out and dust falling in the wind. And the heart was no more, just like his mother.

"No!" Killian shouted, feeling himself change. A fire burned through him.

"Can't escape the curse lad.'" He laughed, though he visibly grew weaker.

"I can break it though…" His teeth were gritted as he approached his father. It hurt so much to walk, like a million winds pressing him back.

The man hunched down. "Yes you can, after you find the mirror of Immortality. And don't worry about your girl. Her memories have been clouded, she thinks you raped and abused her! And every time you see her you will hurt her. She will think you a monster!" Jack's eyes blazed. "You will never have a happy ending."

There were tears in Killian's eyes. He ruined her and he was becoming the man Jack wanted. A true, cruel monster, all that he never wanted to be. Maybe it was this that pushed him onwards to his father. There was a new rage in his eyes as he screamed, shoving his dagger into Jack's chest. But the man did not die; he smiled sweetly at Killian as his body became silt and ash, drifting in the wind.

Killian woke up with a start. He was gasping for air, grasping at his sheets. _No no, not that dream… _for a moment he rested his head on his pillow, trying to slow his heartbeat down. That dream always got to him, the truth behind it so real it sent shivers down his spine.

He realized he couldn't get back to sleep like this so he pulled himself from his bed. The fire inside of him was low and he felt a twinge of his old self within. He let himself go and within minutes he found himself on the deck of the ship. It was raining, which cooled the fire underneath his skin.

Emma was there, to far for her to see him unless she paid attention. He almost shouted out to her, but the fire threatened to hurt her if he did. And at a night like this, where all was peaceful, he couldn't risk it. _Love, I will break this curse. And I will find my mother's dowry. _He thought sadly. Suddenly he felt rather tired and pulled himself away from her, even though it hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - Wow, sorry for the long wait. I'll promise it not be that long next time. So two more chapters and this fic is done! Thanks for reading, hope the wait was worth it :)**

When the ocean got wet, you best be sure the ship got it worse.

The ship was a nice one but it was old and cracks were scarred along every aspect it. There was no escaping the torrent of water that hit every ounce from wherever you stood. Neither was there escape from the harsh tumble. Least be said; everyone was an equal man during a storm.

Emma had never taken to the glories of the open sea. If there was one thing the potion never seemed to cure it was that of her seasickness which hit her worst on days like this.

There was a drabble of men that flew along one side of the hallway as she walked down it hastily, trying her best to keep in her meager lunch. They were just as weak-eyed as her and it almost made her smile. Almost.

Except for the fact that she had places to be. Months had passed and she had been promoted. After wild insults of stealing food from Hook he had let her pass and had even given her a place amongst his men. A minor job, a job she had lesser enjoyed. A job still involving her servitude.

She was Hook's personal servant and guard and right now she had no idea where he was. Hook was still cruel but there was something in his eye that demanded a new look, something that he was fighting. Sometimes, when he was fairly pleasant, she'd ask him about it.

"Master," she began one night while cleaning his quarters. "You've changed."

He snorted from his bed, far to interested in some leather bound parchment to truly pay attention to her. "You've just proven more use to me filth, that is all."

For some reason she didn't drop it. "Then why did you let me live?"

Now he was interested, "because you prove worth. How, I have no idea. You should've died ages ago." He still, however, did not look at her and paid attention solely to his parchment.

She was still not content with his answer but did not press it. Instead she said something different, something she never thought she'd ever say, "there is good in you Killian. As much as you hate to admit it, I believe that much. Stop trying to fight it." Little did she know that his spell was fighting her as well, and it was wearing off slow as it may be. Emma Swan was just too strong to be tamed.

And behind his book, tears brimmed at his eyes.

So when the ship was being churned by the storm she made due to him. But after searching the entire lower decks twice she knew where he was. Getting there wouldn't be that easy, nor did the location appeal.

But he was her master and she had places to be so she climbed up the ladder and felt the torrent of water against her neck. He stood there like a shadow, no force being able to rock him from his station. Emma had come to terms with the fact that Hook scowled a lot and preferred time alone then time with the shipmates. That was a surprise; he didn't seem like a man of solitude.

"Sire!" She shouted, trying to voice above the storm. "I'd think it be wise to come to the lower decks!"

Hook looked back at her, his hair drenched and clothing sodden. But he did not speak nor move and simply looked back at the storm. "I will be fine." He replied, "be gone and let me think. Or I'll have your head on a pike."

Emma had a habit of breaking rules. Speaking against the Captain was her favorite one, and she no longer viewed it as a rule.

"Sire I think it would be best... this crew needs it's Captain."

He barely turned to her but his eyes did not brace her, no not at all, they scored the ladder she as due to climb. "This ship is the Jolly Rodger, it can man its self filth. I refuse to come down, and you've no way to make me."

Emma stepped forward, shivering. "Then I will stay with you."

He now looked her over, eyes churning like the waters they flowed on. "I'll not have that."

But Emma stood as stiff as a rock, despite the harsh weather they faced. "Despite your cruelty, and Gods don't even know why I'm doing this, but I'm serviced to you and I won't leave you. Do you understand?"

"I cannot begin to understand that of which I seek to know," he breathed to himself before straightening his clothing. But she hadn't heard him, and that was good. Anger boiled inside of him like tea on a kettle but how he craved her attention. "Very well, by stay back. I'll not have your filth contaminate me." Couldn't he just call her Emma? Was that too hard? The answer was simple; magic always came with a price, as did anger.

She rolled her eyes but stood near the ladder, falling over a few times due to the immense gallons of water that filtered through her skin, clogging her in a salty embrace.

No one came looking for them. For her it was understandable, she could easily be replaced, as the crew told it half a dozen times. But Killian was not to be lost, not until he lay dying like his retched father. And then the ship would go to the first mate, and she'd once again be treated like garbage.

But oh how she fought it.

Killian hadn't spoken a word, and nor had she asked him too. Emma preferred to watch him in his own demeanor, the way he was when he was nearly alone. And honestly, it saddened her.

He was not joyful or rude but he sulked. Though his eyes were faced towards the sea she could tell that he was trying his hardest to stand upright from an invisible force that pressed down on his heart like an anchor. And it wasn't only that but the way he flexed his hands and the ways his muscles twitched, as if he was about to throw something and scream.

Gods she could just hold him.

After what seemed like hours the sky began to clear and the sea began to calm. There was a floating mass somewhere in the distance and the ship seemed attracted to it, for it drifted towards it. Hook made no way to stop the boat, keeping an interested eye on the mass. As the light grew brighter in the sky and the ocean calmed Emma could feel something cynical radiating from the island.

She turned back towards the latter, holding her hands just like her Captain's - folded behind the back and regal - and awaited someone to come. She had already made due to tell them where they were as the weather calmed. Like they cared, they didn't come looking for him.

For further more someone came, an awestruck terrified look on his face. "Captain is it really -"

Hook cut him off, "yes, we've found it. The Island of Rapture - the final resting place for the mirror of Immortality. Ready the boat, we're too make land."

Emma had no idea how much those words would change her life, and honestly, she didn't care. The Island of Rapture clung in the back of her mind like a door and that name was the key. Something was drawing her in, and she wasn't sure what.


	7. Chapter 7

**A / N **Whoa! Really liked this chapter! So, err, one more and then I'm done here folks'! But don't worry, I'm making a sequel. Reviews are much appreciated.

Emma had to do her fair share in unloading the ship. And since her Captain had disappeared she took it upon herself to command the crew herself.

"We don't take orders from ladies." Growled a few of the crewmembers as they untied at ropes and such.

She had leaned down to face them then, the same threatening growl on her face. "You better get used to it. Who knows this ship best?"

They had ignored her then. But Emma Swan had demanded an answer and an answer she was going to get. Hook had left her with a small dagger in need of situations. So she unlatched that dagger from her belt, throwing it just shy of one of the member's ear. It plucked into the wall, nicking a little at his ear. "I asked you a question!"

The man turned around, fear in his eye. "Y-you ma'am."

Emma smiled, walking up to him and grabbing her dagger. "Now, unload the ship."

It took a few hours and under Emma's command they had made port just as the sun was sinking below the waves. It was then that she looked up at this 'Island of Rapture'

It erupted a little shy of one mile. A quarter of a mile was sand that shone as if it was glowing before it coursed a steep climb. Up until the final half-mile was dark green vegetation. The final half-mile sprung a dark earth brown. Something gold glittered at the top and it seemed to call Emma close in. The more she looked at the island the more attached she grew. For a moment she swore she heard a high-pitched laughter in the wind, but it was probably a figment of her imagination.

"Off to the dining hall, then sleep." She shouted from the steering wheel once they had made port. "We venture in the morning."

"You're not our Captain!" Shouted a daring soul from below her. The wind was growing high.

"Well then," Emma leaned on the wheel, "where is your Captain?"

There were murmurs amongst the men on this subject. "Can't find him eh?" She asked, "Go do as your told. I'll find him. I always do…" She whispered the last part to herself.

Emma had neglected to dine with the men. She instead told someone else to fetch two platters and deliver it to the Captain's quarters. She had known where Captain was. She had spent enough time with him to know him, his habits. And where he went when he was distressed, that took the longest but she had found out.

"Killian." She whispered, leaning on side of the door.

"Filth." He responded, looking up at her, hair catching in his eyes. His back was plastered against a wall, a bounded red book in his hands. There was loss in his eyes. "Are we ported?"

She nodded slowly, "They didn't take a liking, getting their orders from me."

Hook's eyes blazed. "But they did it without a hassle?"

"I nicked someone in the ear," Emma shrugged, sinking down beside him. "I had dinner delivered to your quarters."

Killian gave a fey smile, "thank you."

Emma was taken back by the kindness in his words. Had he ever said those words? She could not recall.

"Captain you need sleep." Emma desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Sleep is not for the wicked Filth, you know that." There was a bristle in his voice. He was being soft. So he threw away the softness. "Leave me now. I will be fine in the morning."

"I am plagued, to you, it is not my job to leave you." She responded. Her eyes searched his for some sense of cruelness, but they were exempt of the torture that had bestowed her for so long.

"Very well." Hook did not fight her, he instead closed his eyes. "But we will share no words. We shall remain silent. Am I understood?"

Emma nodded. They did not talk more, they did not share common ground, and they simply left beside each other like old companions. But the youth in their hearts had grown old. Pain had plagued areas better left untouched. A storm was brewing, and not even the stars knew who would make it out all right.

"We leave in ten!" Shouted an awakened Killian, eyes blazing. There was no sign of the night's events within him. Emma was beside him, looking like a mirrored version of her Captain.

"Sir," she asked, looking at him. "Why is this island so important?"

He did not make eye contact with her, "you will see Emma. Some places change everything, can't they?"

She did not answer him, she pondered on the question.

"Ready us a boat, and collect Thal and Non, they are to be with us." He ordered, looking up at the island like a mystic on her crystal ball.

The two men were twin brothers, one was stocky and short and excellent in combat. The other was the opposite, quiet and smart. Emma had considered marrying him one day but something made her change her mind. He was not meant for her. Emma beckoned them with her eyes, a quick blink in their direction.

Once they had all manned the boat, occupied by a very silent Hook, they lead the small Armanda of whaling boats. "We do not know what is on this island, be cautious. Do not separate yourself from each other." Hook said, looking over every one of them. He had brought on many swords, and if Emma hadn't known him better, she would think he wasn't afraid. But the fear hung behind the hardness. It made him jittery, never leaving eye contact with the island.

They had made it to the sand of the island wordlessly. Hook had made no noises or notions, leaving Emma to the difficult task of manning over 10 whaling ships filled with bloodthirsty, confused males. But she had managed.

Once they had tied the boats up, collecting their belongs and collected around the Captain he spoke. He stood on a rotting brown stump, his voice booming over the sand. "Man yourself with your best equipment lads! You are to stay with whom you rode with. Do not let an inch of this island be unseen. Off you lads go!" Without another word, or a look at his crew, the captain began up the island.

It was a steep slope that gave Emma many bruises. It was not only the ruthlessness of the island that gave her shivers; it was the energy that burned through her. So in this fact she always had a hand clasped to her dagger and an eye on her captain.

He didn't seem to fond of this place, it increased his anger tenfold and his eyes soon grew tired of the everlasting searching. What he was looking for Emma could not tell bit she tried to calm him. When she gently put a hand on his shoulder he jumped and sneered, until calming down slightly. "Ah, filth, what do you want?"

"You're jittery Captain. The crew is worried." Emma responded with a curled brow and an earnest look. For some odd reason she felt as though she could calm him down. "You should drink something."

"Don't give me orders filth," he growled in response. But in the end he took the whiskey, gulping it down in a hastily fashion. She cringed at this but he only rolled his eyes. "Better?"

She shook her head, pulling out a canteen of water and putting it to his lips. "Drink this," and he obeyed in the fashion of a tired boy. "We should camp soon, I'll collect the crew."

"No, no." Hook shoved at her and looked at the sky, they had made it nearly halfway up in their trek. "I can do it, you're not the Captain."

Emma raised her brows, "You're too tired. Lay down and sleep you dammed fool, I can do it." He protested, "The crew will think you're going insane. Listen to me for once now will you?"

"I always do…" he breathed, but she was already gone. There was no business to be done stepping in front of a sea monster, so he let her do, as she was to do. And the captain fell asleep with an image of his cackling father behind his eye.

Emma awoke slowly to the sound of snakes slithering amongst the trees and birds call into the dawn. What she did not wake up to, however, was the sound of men. In an instant she snapped open her eyes and she was alone.

Looking around her she noticed no tracks. She was not left, but she was alone. Moments later she sprung upwards, only to hear a harsh cackling towards the peak. The brazen energy that called her was stronger then ever. So she did what she knew she had to do; she went up. "Captain!" She called loudly, nothing.

The faster she ran the harsher the cackle. For a moment she thought she heard the men and she turned that way, only to come to a dead end. Soon she was bloody all over the face from running and falling. Blinking away the blood that began to pour she continued towards the cackle.

For all she knew she was alone. Emma and that cackle sent from the depths of hell. When she thought she couldn't take it anymore she came to the peak. The man that awaited her was hardly human.

"Hello dearie."


End file.
